See You Later, Denise

On Tuesday, I lost a friend to breast cancer. I didn't find out until today when I heard the news from my mother. I thought I would cry, but I didn't.

She was a vivacious woman, full of humility and kindness. She always had a smile ready on her face. She had boundless energy, even in her final days. She was the first person to welcome my dad into the church. She served God in and out of the church constantly. She was a devoted mother of three amazing kids and a supportive wife to an equally-loving husband.

She went to Hong Kong for treatments when doctors here have given all they could to help her fight the disease. We thought she would make it. She thought she would be home, in Canada, by now. In some ways, she is home. She is with God.

Perhaps, that is why I am not crying.

Dear Chummy,

I remember when I first saw you. You were huddled among several tufts of brown fur. But, your coat was the only one that had a white stripe that ran all around your waist -- if that is your waist. I couldn't tell. But, you were so cute and I pointed to you and said, "That one!"

When I brought you home, my sister fell in love with you instantly. My mother loved and cherished you despite never holding you in her hands because she was afraid you were germy. Even my dad, who is afraid of rodents, fussed over you, making sure that you were fed and not feeling lonely.
I bought you because my last class of students at KGS behaved so well. I promised them that if they did, they would receive their biggest desire -- a class pet. That year, because of you, six of those students asked their parents for their very own hamsters. You taught them how to be responsible and loving. You even motivated one student to write; because he had dyslexia, he worked extra hard on his writing, so he could write a letter to his mother explaining why he should be allowed to have a pet hamster of his own. She told me that she has never seen him work so diligently on a voluntary assignment. And you showed a girl with autism how even a shy and timid girl like her can be brave enough to hold you -- you calmed her from shaking, not the other way around. You helped give her confidence and that was precious. At the end of the year, every student got to take home a picture with you. They all said it was their favourite picture.
My family called you Chummy. My students called you Athena. But, no matter what you were called, you were loved.

I remember that you used to bite us, but not very often. Eventually, you knew that when we put our hands into your cage with our palms up, we meant to hold you and pet you, and not to harm you. Sometimes, you even put your tiny little paws into our hands to let us know that you wanted to be held at the moment.

When I learned that you liked to eat bananas, I shared my breakfast banana with you every other day. I didn't eat where you ate, of course, but it was cute to see you grasp the edge of the banana with your paws while you gnawed hungrily at the treat.
Someone told me that hamsters enjoy chewing on toilet paper rolls and using the bits to build a nest. So, my family and friends harvested numerous empty toilet paper rolls for you to chew on. I was more delighted when I saw you stuff tissue paper into your mouth. It was the funniest thing and the best "trick" my students have ever seen. All that paper stuffed so quickly into your mouth and then your cheeks filled up, making you look three times larger. We all groaned with disgust, but stared in awe, as we watched you regurgitate the paper out into a loosely-twisted rope. To our surprise, the tissue was dry. When you were done, we would shout, "Again!" but you were tired and ready for your nap.
You slept a lot. A LOT! But, at night you would be scampering about. What mischievous trouble were you getting into when the rest of us would dream at night?

I remember when I bought you chew sticks. They were nuts and seeds, coated with honey, and packed so tightly together into a shape of a long stick. You devoured an entire five-inch long stick in less than a day; you even chewed on the plastic hook that the stick was attached to.
That's when we discovered your bizarre passion for anything plastic and chewable. You chewed on everything! One day, my sister realized that she hadn't heard your exercise ball rolling about as you run in it around the house. She searched the house and found your ball only to discover that you had chewed the tabs around the door and escaped! Fortunately, you didn't go far. I bet you were scared and didn't know what to do with the new-found freedom. So, my sister kept you safe and put you back into your house.

Do you remember your house? It was better than the cage that we brought you home in. Do you remember why I got it for you? Before the exercise ball, I had given you a metal wheel to run on. One evening, before I left the school, I went to say goodnight to you and I saw a hole in your side, the same size as the axle on the wheel. I had a feeling that one of those times when I transported you back and forth from school and my parents' house, the wheel fell on top of you or you were squished against the wheel. My family and I were so concerned that we prayed for you. My sister took you to the vet and the vet assured us that it was just a bruise. Indeed, within one week, that hole went away, along with all of our worries for you.
Last night, at 12:30am, I turned off the lamp on my night stand to go to sleep. Little did I know, that at that same time, another light in this world was extinguished. You went to sleep, an eternal sleep. This morning at 9:00am, I called home to ask how things were. Almost immediately, my dad told me that you had passed away.

I cried.

I am still crying.

Later today, my sister would have brought you to a field by KGS. She would bury you and say a little prayer for you. She would have wept for you, too.

You are much loved, Chummy. We know that you are in Pet Heaven somewhere and God is making sure there are enough wood chips (the pine chips, your favourite), chew sticks, and tissue paper for you to enjoy.

Rest in peace.

Chummy Chan
September 16, 2006 ~ November 15, 2008

Family Reunion

Of all places to become reunited with long-lost, long-forgotten relatives, a funeral service provided a great means by which I meet several aunts, uncles, and cousins on my father's side this past Thursday.

My dad's father married three times. After my grandmother died when my dad was two years old, my grandfather married two more times, hence the number of relatives we didn't know we have or had. Auntie Ada was one of those aunts from the half and step families, but she and her husband had been close to us. Her death was a sudden one and my father was adamant about attending her funeral. I've never heard my dad cry so hard.

At the tea reception following the service, I discovered that I have a cousin who's half-German, half-Chinese, a lovely combo I had fantasized being when I was a kid. I used to have halfling friends living on my block and we treated each other like siblings, so for a while I thought it was possible for me to be half-and-half, too. Now the only half-and-half I can get is in my bubble tea. Anyway, I had a nice chat with my cousin, Marco, about political science, working for the government, immigration, teaching, ethnic diversity in Canada, outspoken people in Germany (which he is, wow, can that guy talk!), and of course, my now-deceased aunt. He and I talked as if we were never going to see each other again.

I found another cousin, Justin, who just graduated from Grade 12 and I spoke to him and his girlfriend. We had a nice chat together, too, since his girlfriend was interested in becoming a teacher and both had lots of questions about what university was like. Being a teacher, I loved to help out these two kids and chat about their options and discuss their thoughts about their ambitions.

At one point my parents marveled at how much time had passed since we last saw one of my other cousins. The last time I had apparently saw him was at his wedding (I was too little to remember the event now) and now he's divorced, although his ex-wife attended the service. My family also got reconnected with two other aunts, the sisters of the one who had just passed away. Eloquent, strong in spirit, humourous, gentle, kind, generous, and outgoing: such amazing individuals. Torontonians are fortunate to have such citizens living among them.

How lovely and strange to meet family members that I probably will never see again unless another family member has passed. How bittersweet to discover new or more relatives after losing one.

May God bless the soul He's called back to Him and may He bless the ones who have graced our presence fleetingly that Thursday afternoon.